


Trope Rage in E Minor (aka Pepper has had enough of your BS)

by Scree_Kat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Pepper Potts, Gen, Here be cussing, I have trope rage, TW for verbal abuse, That's why this fic exists, no really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scree_Kat/pseuds/Scree_Kat
Summary: Peter Parker thought life with the Avengers would be amazing. Aside from the awesomeness that is Pepper Potts, he was very, very wrong.Until he wasn't.
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts
Kudos: 25





	1. Peter POV

He didn't mean to do it.

He'd been contemplating upgrades to his web shooters, and the world faded from focus as he mentally ran through calculations and struggled to figure out how to improve the strength and functionality of his webs. It'd be good to have something stronger to keep enhanced people escaping so easily. And maybe one that could cushion impacts, to help people who were falling? He'd just about figured out how to accommodate multiple formulas within the one set of shooters- it wasn't like he could switch out cartridges in a crisis, after all- when the sound of a loud impact in front of him forced Peter's focus back to the world around him. 

'Peter!' Tony's voice wasn't worried, or warm. It was downright pissed off. Judging from the scowl, he'd been trying for a while to get his attention, and Peter felt like he'd been deflated just by the sharpness of the older man's glare. 

'I'm sorry Mister Stark!' And he really, really was. Mister Stark was busy. Really busy, too busy to waste time trying to get a teenager's attention. 'What were you saying?' Whatever Mister Stark had been going to say was lost to the lecture he'd apparently been prepping. 

'You're almost an adult, Peter! I would expect this childish shit from a preschooler, not from you. If you're called, I expect an answer. What if we were on the field? You think anyone wants to fight alongside some kid who isn't even paying attention?' As he spoke, he was gesturing wildly, his hands waving too closely to Peter's face for comfort. His spidey-sense was shouting, but he forced himself to stay still even as every instinct begged him to run. 

'No, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir.' He'd thought saying sorry again would calm Mister Stark down, but it only seemed to make him angrier, the unimpressed voice weaponising into rage instantly. 

'Do you even think, kid? I mean, Jesus! Are you deaf, or do you just not even remember your own name at this point?' It wasn't like Peter hadn't heard these lectures before. A lot. He'd been in foster care long enough to piss off a lot of families (which, really, wasn't his intention. Honest. He just got lost in his head sometimes, or got headaches because his senses were in hyperdrive and he could barely even function when that happened). It just hurt to hear his hero, to hear _Iron Man_ himself, launching into one. 

And okay, yeah, he'd annoyed Mister Stark before. Mister Stark liked things a particular way, and it had taken a while for Peter to learn that and remember it, and sometimes he'd talk when Mister Stark wanted quiet, or he'd ask to turn the music down when Mister Stark needed it loud ('to drown out the demons,' he'd said the one time Peter had been brave enough to ask). But he was trying to be better! He was even trying to make noise cancelling ear buds that would keep out the incidental noises but let him hear the important stuff. Surely that had to mean something?

'I mean, Jesus kid, did you aunt and uncle die to get away from you?' Peter froze, though in fairness, so did Mister Stark. It was as if his brain had just caught up with his ranting, and the older man's face paled as he stared at him in shock. 

Before he could do, say, anything, Missus Stark was there, her arm wrapped around Peter protectively, pulling him against her side and hugging him tightly as she growled, honest to god growled, at her husband. Peter had been a little bit afraid of Mister Stark as he gestured and ranted, but Missus Stark was actually terrifying. He made a mental note not to ever, ever piss her off. It took twenty terrifying minutes for her shouting to fade out, and then she was dragging him out of the kitchen and to his bedroom, ordering him to get changed because they were going out. 

Mister Stark was long gone by the time he was ready to leave. His enhanced hearing picked up the loud strains of rock music as the elevator sped past Mister Stark's lab.

*

Missus Stark had hugged him tightly in the elevator, had kissed his forehead and apologised to him over and over, as though she'd done something wrong. It was... weird. She'd had Happy drive them to an ice cream parlour, which was even weirder because she had very definite ideas about desserts for breakfast. Still, he wasn't fool enough to pass up the opportunity for ice cream. Or to raise a fuss when she was trying so hard to be nice. So he accepted the gigantic sundae she'd dared him to order, watching her tear apart a muffin without even eating it. 

'I'm so sorry, Peter.'

'I'm okay! It's not your fault, Missus Stark.' She flinched as he called her Missus Stark, and he watched curiously as she opened and closed her mouth a few times before seeming to settle on what to say. Her shoulders straightened, the way they did when she was doing something important, and she rested her hands on the table between them the way he did whenever he was trying not to fidget. She met his confused gaze with a soft, sad smile. 

'Peter, I know you're not biologically my son, and I'm just your foster mother. But you're my son in every way that matters, and I'm here for you, no matter what. I don't want to make you call me Mom- I know you had a mother who loved you so, so much, and I never want you to feel like I'm replacing her. But maybe you could call me Pepper? We've gotta be able to trust each other, kiddo, and it's hard to do that when you feel like you've got to be so formal with me, you know?' Though her voice hadn't wavered, she seemed to lose courage after asking him to call her Pepper, her gaze shifted to the table while her hands went back to eviscerating innocent baked goods.

'Okay, Pepper.' She beamed at him, and he remembered Aunt May smiling at him like that, like he was the world, or the absolute best gift anyone could ask for. He found himself smiling softly back. 

He knew that, sooner or later, they'd need to have an important, awkward conversation. But for now, he was happy enough to let her steal spoonfuls of his ice cream, throwing small chunks of muffin at him when he jokingly complained. 

Even if only for a moment, it was nice to feel like part of a family. 


	2. Pepper POV

Pepper had frozen in the doorway, gaping in shock until the sheer rage consumed her.

Tony hadn't been shouting, but somehow, the hissing menace of his voice was all the worse for its quietness. Peter's eyes were downcast, shoulders curled inwards as his foster father ranted. The kid didn't say anything, do anything, just bit his lip until she could see spots of blood starting to grow, his eyes shining with tears he resolutely did not shed. He didn't fight back, and that, too, made it worse. 

Tony wasn't always a nice man. She, of all people, knew this, even if he'd seemed to turn it all around recently. She'd thought she'd seen him at his literal worst, had dealt with his venom more than enough to realise just how bad he could be. Still, she'd never known Tony to be this cruel, even at his most self-destructive. This was... new. As though he'd seen rock bottom and started excavations. This was Howard-like, the utter opposite of what she'd imagined her husband to be around a child. 

'- aunt and uncle die to get away from you?' She didn't see red. She saw her son- because sure, he wasn't _biologically_ hers, but Peter was her son none the fucking less- being terrorised, and within seconds her shouting could be heard in the levels above and below them. Nobody left their rooms, let alone their floors, for four hours, too scared to risk her wrath. Pepper was oblivious to this.

After all, once she'd put her husband firmly back into place, she bundled Peter up into a hug, and hurried him to his room to change, before taking him out for a mother-son day. 

When Peter was finally asleep that night, she'd stormed Tony's lab with an ultimatum: you mistreat our son, and I will leave you. 

*

Pepper wasn't a genius like Tony, thank God. She'd rather be logical and functional, thank you very much. Not being a genius didn't mean she was stupid, though. Unfortunately, far too many people forgot that part. Even running one of the most powerful companies in the world, one of the most powerful companies _in the history of the world_ , didn't mean that people respected her intelligence, or thought her capable of much. Oh, sure. They'd talk about her beauty, like it mattered. That she'd married well, like Tony wasn't lucky to have her after all the shit he'd pulled- like she'd married for fortune, rather than love. But they forgot, always, that you needed intelligence, cunning, and willpower to run a company like hers, let alone to wrangle a man like Tony Stark. Screw a will of iron, you needed a will of vibranium to get him to sit his ass at his desk and do his paperwork, and she made him do that shit _daily_. 

You didn't run so large a company so well without an organised mind, and the ability to plan. The day after mother-son day, when Peter was safely at school, she cancelled her appointments, had her calls held, and locked herself in her office to prepare. She'd cried for an hour before she'd pulled herself together and focused on the practicalities. She was Peter's guardian. She was his _mother_. She swore to protect him, and she would do it, even when it hurt her to do so. 

Step One: have the security footage of the incident pulled up and saved on an external drive.

Step Two: create a new protocol, hidden from Tony, that had footage from any similar encounters between Peter and anyone in the tower saved, even if the original footage was deleted, or anyone added a protocol to delete the footage, and have an alert sent to her phone. Have another alert sent should anyone try to delete footage, or to set protocols to remove it from the security feeds. 

Step Three: start creating an escape route, just in case. 

Step Four: gather allies

Step Five: pray she never needed to use any of it. 

*

There were benefits to being friends with a literal spy, and never having to tell them what the fuck was bothering you was pretty high on the list. It was barely past lunchtime when Natasha threw open the door and strolled into the room, holding up a bag of (judging by the smell) her favourite pasta from her favourite restaurant while Pepper's receptionist almost had conniptions behind her. Offering a smile that didn't reach her eyes, Pepper told the receptionist it was fine, dismissing her as she waved Tash further into the room. Once the door was closed, Natasha's polite smile dropped away. The boys, even Tony, were intimidated by that shift in demeanour. Pepper just enjoyed the opportunity to emote freely, without men rolling their eyes or stumbling in to play the unwanted knight in shining armour. After all, her smile had vanished just as quickly.

'Do you want me to kill him?' Pepper huffed a laugh, though it was sadder and more bitter than even she'd thought herself capable of. There was no point asking how Natasha knew something was wrong, or what had happened. 

'No. But...' Natasha didn't push her to continue, and judging from the sympathetic expression on her face, knew just how monumental the request was going to be. 'I want you to help me plan an escape if needed.' Natasha nodded.

'Smart play. How deep do you want to hide?'

And wasn't that the question of the hour? The painful truth was that there was no hiding from Tony Stark. If he wanted you found, it would happen eventually. The mere idea of spending her lie in hiding, paranoid and terrified of the inevitable confrontation was exhausting enough. She couldn't imagine being able to live like that, let alone drag Peter into that kind of a mess.

'That's the thing: I don't. I still have a company to run. I've worked hard for my life, I'm not giving that up because Tony's self-destructing again. I just need an out if needed, and someone to keep an eye on Peter when I can't.'

Natasha's smile was small, but genuine, and Pepper found herself relaxing. 

'Sam heard you yelling, too. He's pissed off. Peter's another little brother to him, so he's got two protectors on side already. He's picking Peter up from school today, planning on having a talk with him.' Not a shock. Sam was a damn good big brother, and an equally good counsellor. He'd make sure Peter had all the support he'd need to heal from his encounter. 'So what can I do?'

Between the two of them, it really didn't take long to map everything out. 

It wasn't perfect, because perfect would be Tony not being a raging asshole to a kid, but it was enough. As Natasha hugged her goodbye, her grip almost bruisingly tight, Pepper had the sudden realisation that it would all be okay. Not perfect, but okay. 


	3. Peter POV

Sparring with the team _sucked._

Okay, that wasn't entirely true, or fair. Working with Tash, Wanda, Clint, Bucky and Sam was pretty awesome. They were all really nice, and would try and help him learn new moves, showing him what he was doing wrong without it being the end of the world that he didn't already know how to neutralise a threat with his pinkie finger. Clint would high five him, cheering loudly (Peter wondered how embarrassing his kids found him- he was pretty sure they spent most father/kid time mortified beyond belief). Sam and Bucky would clap him on the shoulder, tell him how well he was doing whenever he got something right. Wanda would hug him, kissing his cheek and praising her 'little brother'. Tash would ruffle his hair, a small, secret smile meant only for him to see gracing her features. 

The others weren't so nice. Oh, sure, Doctor Banner just kept quiet, and hurried away whenever things started getting tense, acting as though he'd forgotten about an experiment and nothing was happening. Mister Stark was reasonable enough when the others could hear him, even if he never once said a nice thing about Peter's work. He'd nod along if Tash gave him her murder stare about his silence, but otherwise, nada. 

You'd think, after getting his ass handed to him by Pepper, that Mister Stark would be nicer, but he wasn't. In fact, he seemed to try even harder to find mistakes, no matter how tiny or insignificant. Whenever Peter screwed up- and apparently, tying his shoelaces a certain way counted as a monumental failure- his foster father took it as a personal insult, acting like Peter was doing it on purpose just to be annoying. Like it mattered the knot you used so long as it didn't come undone or trip you up. But he'd _tried_. He watched stupid videos on YouTube and learned the stupid knot and tied his shoes the way Mister Stark told him, only to get told that was wrong, too. First, the loops were really uneven. Then they were only the teeniest bit uneven. Then Mister Stark decided he didn't like that knot after all, and the whole thing started over. It wasn't like he was yelling, which is why he hadn't mentioned it to Pepper. Mister Stark would just huff and sigh and mutter about it so that Peter knew what the problem was and panicked enough to start solving it. 

And Captain Rogers was just as bad. It was like they'd become a comedy duo where the joke was Peter's life. Because Mister Stark would pick and pick and pick until Peter lost his temper. He didn't swear (he was angry, not suicidal), but the laundry list of failures on infinite repeat usually ended with 'omg fine! I get it!', which saw the Captain launching into sermons about how respectful he was when he was young even when Bucky would interrupt to call bullshit very, very loudly. Funny as it was to see Bucky shoot his honorary brother in the face with a bean bag rifle, and the bright pink bag clocking the Captain right in the mouth mid-lecture, Peter'd prefer not being made to feel like an idiot for hours at a time. The thing is... his brain worked better on instinct. Give him no time to think, and he was a good fighter, and great at his job. But ask him to focus all of his attention on making sure his foot was just a hairs breadth to the left when you couldn't even give him a specific measurement to try for, and suddenly he forgot how to use his legs. His muscle memory picked it up easily enough, but try as he might, that information only seemed available when he was too distracted to think about what he needed to do and how to do it. 

It was apparently the most unforgiveable of sins. 

He'd imagined, when the Avengers had just been created and he'd still be excited by the notion of superheroes, that training with them would be awesome. They'd laugh and joke around, like a family, teasing each other and daring each other to do stupid stuff just to see if they could. And in fairness, when it wasn't the whole team, it kinda _was_ like that. But he'd had the whole stupid thing mapped out in his head, had been so excited to be welcomed in (however reluctantly) that when he'd shown up to military-like drills under the Captain and gruelling fight sims with Mister Stark's bots, he'd almost cried at the unfairness of it all. 

And it was unfair. Because Mister Stark and the Captain had decided they needed him to get things perfect- not just right, but perfect- and would keep him training long past the point he was exhausted, getting more and more upset at him because he was a superhero, sure, but he was also human, and capable of getting tired and clumsy. And while they knew they couldn't get away with it around the rest of the team, they'd just find excuses to drag him to the training room. Invites to the lab, once cause for all kinds of excitement, now generally meant the lift taking him to the training rooms instead, where the two men were waiting, grinning. 

Hours later, when he could barely stagger to the elevator, they'd call it a night. 

Yeah. Being an Avenger _sucked._


	4. Natasha POV

The littlest spider was exhausted. Trying valiantly to hide it, and by the looks, it wouldn't take long for him to learn to conceal his exhaustion even from her watchful eye. But for now, at least, it was obvious in the shaking of his hands, and the dark bruising beneath his eyes. He'd walked in to the team breakfast stiffly, ribs protected like he'd taken a hell of a beating when she knew damn well Spider-Man hadn't been patrolling in days. 

Beside her, Bucky had stilled, though given how still he generally was, it was doubtful anyone else would notice. She turned her attention to him, pretending to ask him to grab the honey for her tea. His gaze was all for Peter, studying him like a puzzle he was gradually working out as he handed her the jar, his gaze shifting towards Tony and Steve, his jaw clenching. The pair were talking, quiet enough to go unheard by those who hadn't been enhanced, smiling as they reminisced about a wonderful night. 

They hadn't had one, though. Steve had... what? Gone off to the roof to do some more sketching, and Tony had taken Peter to the lab.

 _Tony had taken Peter to the lab._ Except clearly, he hadn't. There was no way in Hell the kid would be cradling his ribs from a screw up in the lab.

She counted to ten. Then twenty. Then gave up and began counting weapons within her reach until the surge of rage passed. This would be the moment where someone like Sam would go in, fists flying. He'd wage war, the consequences be damned, because that's what you do for family. At least, that's what you do if you're not raised in the Red Room. As much as she itched to slam a fist into Tony's throat, she knew she couldn't. Besides, it wouldn't actually help Peter in the long run. Instead of leaping the table and throttling the men opposite her, Natasha forced herself to sprawl back in her chair, limbs relaxed, expression carefully neutral, eyeing Tony and Steve without a hint of the venom she was feeling. 'So, boys, how was lab time last night? Make any magic?' Peter shot her an almost panicked look before looking to Tony as though unsure of what to say. Tony rolled his eyes.

'It was the usual. Kid's clumsy, so we spent more time cleaning than getting any actual work done.' From the corner of her eye, she could see Bucky's metal hand gripping the table leg hard enough to dent the hardwood. She sent a subtle kick his way, watching him release the table, thankfully without breaking it. Peter was glaring at his empty plate, biting his lip as though trying to stop himself speaking. 

Steve was smirking. 

She shook her head, eyeing Peter in disinterest and hoping one day she'd earn his forgiveness for the hurt betrayal that flickered over his features. 'How about I work with him, then? Get him a bit less clumsy.'

Tony scoffed, and she fought the urge to clench her fist, to snarl at him that this was his fucking kid he was terrorising. 'Doubt it's possible, but go for it. He doesn't have school today, anyway.'

'Alright kid, let's go.' Peter didn't say anything, merely stood and waited for further instruction. 'Get changed, we'll practice moving through crowds this morning, then try something else later on, okay?' He nodded, hurrying away. 'Want to help, Bucky?' He nodded quickly, leaving his own plate empty and wandering off to get changed. She used to resent the Red Room's demand that she was always prepared, that she didn't leave her room of a morning until she was dressed and ready to run if needed. But now, as the idea of having to risk Peter being alone with Steve and Tony again, she was grateful for the lesson. 'I was going to have lunch with Pepper today, we'll head upstairs before we go to make sure she's okay with some additions to the table.' Tony nodded, clearly disinterested. Once Bucky and Peter were back, she hurried her boys into the elevator, telling Friday to let Pepper know they were on their way. 

She wasn't looking forward to the coming conversation. 

*

Pepper looked up from her paperwork the second the door opened, taking barely a second to look at Peter before jumping to her feet and rushing to his side, hands fidgeting as though she longed to hug him but was terrified of hurting him further. 'What happened?'

'I'd quite like to know that myself.' Pepper shot her a worried look as Peter simply looked at the ground, saying nothing. 'Here's what I think happened: Steve and Tony took Peter training last night, calling it lab time. They kept you awake far later than they should have, and you got hurt during the work out.' Still, the damned silence. She fought the urge to sigh, or punch the wall. 'Fine. FRIDAY, please initiate the Nanny cam protocol. Show us Peter's locations and who he was with last night from 6:30 onwards.' The hologram erupted from the centre of Pepper's desk, and Natasha strode forwards, eyeing the information with a scowl she didn't bother to conceal. Tony and Steve. In the training rooms. Hardly a surprise. That he had been there for six hours was more than surprise enough. 'Thank you. Please show the footage of the training Peter completed last night in which he sustained injuries.'

'Processing footage now.'

'Has the footage been saved to the files?'

'My programming does not include team training into the automatic save category. Would you like me to update this?'

'Please.'

'Program update complete. Video seventy percent completed.' Pepper looked ready to be ill, not that Natasha could blame her. If it had been one or two injuries, it would take moments. Minutes meant... she really didn't want to see the footage.' Still, she made herself watch, even after Pepper had hurried Peter from the room to speak with Doctor Cho after the first image of one of Tony's AI training suits punching the boy's chest hard enough to crack his ribs. 

They were only an hour into the training session's logs. Beside her, Bucky was looking murderous, and she couldn't blame him. 'Friday, please send Doctor Cho a list of the injuries sustained by Peter last night, and add them to the files.'

'We're going to war, aren't we?'

'Yeah.' Neither bothered asking whether they wanted to back out. Both had hunted far scarier quarry than Tony fucking Stark, after all. Neither had a family before, either, and seeing the devastation on Peter's face?

Damn right, they were going to war. 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I stumbled onto a trope that gave me a rage. Basically, Pete's adopted by Tony and Pepper. Pepper loves him. Tony is an asshole. The rest of the Avengers verbally and emotionally (and sometimes physically) abuse him for unspecified reasons of assholery and plot. Peter and MJ are dancers hoping to make it big and gtfo of their shitty situations. Pepper tries, but can't really do much to keep Peter safe. And the Avengers are just cruel, but for convoluted reasons some eventually try not to be (not all, just some of them), and BOOM, forgiveness and happily ever afters. 
> 
> Y'all, I cannot with that 'forgive the abuser' fuckery. So here's my riff on that trope.


End file.
